Great in the Field
by Man-lovingFeminist
Summary: Cristina and Owen have passed their genes on to a promising young surgeon and accomplice.  Another version of a Yang-Hunt family. Mentions of Alex.


"Lulu. Hey, Lulu," called Danny. No answer. "Lam-o Lu, are you there?"

"Shhhhh , Doofus Danny. You'll wake Uncle Alex. Take back the Lam-o or I won't let you up."

"Okay, I take it back, but hurry. I need to get this squirrel sedated before he escapes again."

Lulu quickly lowered the rope ladder, and Danny scrambled up one-handed, a splinted squirrel in the other.

"You know Mom will throw a fit if she finds out," whispered Lulu as she helped him through the upstairs bedroom window. "Last time she swore you must have been switched at the hospital with Aunt Izzie's baby – no child of hers would operate on random animals. What did she say, "If you didn't have Dad's hair as proof you were ours, you would be on your way to Portland right now.'"

"Okay, okay," said Danny, somewhat unconvinced by Lulu's warning as he also remembered that incident - his mother going to the next room immediately following the lecture, and hearing the muffled laughter of his parents. "But I think Dad will appreciate my field work, seeing how this squirrel was shot by some stupidhead's BB gun – it's kind of like a war wound."

Danny had found his twin's weak spot: Lulu's mother was her role model but she worshipped her father – partly because she was fascinated by his red hair (she was so jealous of Danny but at least she shared her father's blue eyes), partly because by the time of her and Danny's ninth birthday, her normally non-gushy mother had already told her so many stories – of how Dad had been a war hero, how he had once "rescued" her from an icicle impalement, how he had led the team when they both saved Aunt Callie and Sophia after the accident, and how he turned down the Chief of Surgery job and stayed home with her and Danny the first couple of years so mom could focus on her cardio fellowship and MacArthur Genius Grant. (Dad always said he knew she was a genius from the time he met her but Mom said it was nice to have concrete proof in an argument.)

"Quick, get him in the cage." Lulu hustled Danny to his room where a makeshift animal hospital, had been set up under his bed, as the unmistakeable sound of a waking Alex came from downstairs.

"Hey, you two. You know you're supposed to be asleep. I'll tell your parents if you're not in bed by the time I get up the stairs."

"Sure Uncle Alex. How was "What Not to Wear?" laughed the twins in unison.

"I was watching "Justified", not that girly show," scowled Alex reaching the twins' rooms.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say," giggled Lulu.

"Okay, how about if I don't say you two were up past your bedtime and you NEVER mention my inadvertent lapse of manly TV watching judgment to your mom." After all these years, Alex still feared the razor sharp ribbing of their mother. They might both be highly respected attendings now, but something of their residency competition still lingered.

"Deal!" Danny and Lulu would never do anything to really piss off Alex anyway – he was their favorite babysitter: he never treated them like idiots and never lied to them about anything that mattered. And owing to his status as a respected pediatric surgeon, their parents were hard pressed to counter his arguments that late night chocolate cake would do them no harm.

"Danny. Dude. Please tell me you haven't gone all animal EMT again on my watch," Alex said hearing a suspicious scuffling sound under the bed.

Danny looked back at Alex in silence, unable to outright lie to him but protective of his patient. The sound of the front door lock signaled imminent doom for both of them.

"You have got to tell your parents or I will," a stern Alex ordered.

"Okay, but look, I made this awesome splint for his leg," said Danny proudly pulling the cage from under the bed. Alex had to admit, the kid had skills, but in about 1 minute Cristina Yang-Hunt was about to make his life miserable.

Or maybe not. "Babe, you were so awesome. It reminded me of old times – the emergency trache and all." Danny and Lulu always got a little freaked out when they heard their mom laugh like a girl – a laugh reserved completely for their father and rarely heard in public.

Their dad's deep lighthearted baritone filtered up the stairs, "You were pretty impressive yourself – don't think too many cardio gods would be able to give both a brilliant diagnosis, crack a chest and have the forethought to have our steaks wrapped up to go. You do know how to turn a man on."

The next few moments were filled with a little silence, a little giggling. "Ummm, maybe we should check on the kids and make sure Alex isn't being held hostage." "In a minute."

Other kids might have felt a little neglected by parents who didn't immediately rush up to see them after an evening out, but Danny and Lulu were used to it: they always felt loved, but their parents had something special they held in reserve for each other only. Besides, being twins they never felt alone and they each secretly hoped one day they would find some kind of happiness resembling what their parents had.

Alex cleared his throat as he made his way downstairs – weren't Owen and Cristina a little too old to be making out like teenagers in the living room?

"See, not a hostage," Owen said to Cristina as Alex entered.

"Alex, you missed all the fun – the big chandelier in the restaurant came crashing down. Owen had to perform an emergency trache . . .

And Cristina had to crack a guy's chest and get his heart started before the EMT guys could get there," Owen finished Cristina's sentence. "Oh and we have leftover filet mignon if you're hungry," grinned Owen.

"You guys are nuts. Maybe that explains your kids," Alex said only pretending a snark he didn't feel.

"Aaaalex," Owen's started his scary stare that still struck a little fear into Alex's heart, no matter how gentle and kind the person giving it was. "What have they been up to?"

"Uuuh, nothing. Nothing bad. Danny might want to talk to you. I really have to get home now. Addison has an early surgery tomorrow. Thanks for the steak." Alex darted out – the kids were on their own now.

Cristina and Owen gave each other the "what did your child do now" look and headed up to talk to Danny. Lulu headed them off at the pass, "Danny just did an amazing rescue of a poor, tortured squirrel. I mean someone had _shot_ the defenseless creature with a BB gun. AND, he created a miniature splint based on one of your old medical books . . ." Cristina gave her daughter an affectionate pat on the head, then moved her aside to enter Danny's room.

"Nice try, Sweety," whispered Owen to his raven-haired daughter.

". . . . and then there's rabies, and fleas and plague, not to mention squirrel pellets," Cristina was telling Danny as Owen tried not to laugh. "But Mom, look I removed the BB, cleaned the wound, re-set the leg and everything," Danny defended staring back at her with her own determined brown eyes. He did know how to soften his mother's heart: excellent surgical skills always impressed her. Cristina tried not to look proud. She failed. "I'm not kidding about the rabies, though."

"Mom's right about that kiddo. Hon, what do you think about making a temporary shelter in the corner of the garage," Owen asked Cristina.

"You're lucky your dad and I had such a great night and I'm in such a good mood, Buster. Okay, he can stay in the garage, but NO MORE WILD ANIMALS IN THE HOUSE." Cristina turned back to look at Owen and prevent her son from seeing her stifle her mirth. "Field surgery. Your son," she mouthed to Owen.

"Mom, can you and dad tell us a bedtime story," Lulu asked, relieved her brother didn't seem to be in too much trouble.

Cristina, still buoyed by the evening's adventure, relented. "Okay, sweet or gory?"

"Gory!"

"Definitely your children," Owen whispered to Cristina.

"Well, your dad and I were out at that new restaurant tonight and had just taken a couple of bites of steak when we heard this weird creaking sound coming from the ceiling . . ." began Cristina.


End file.
